


Gilded Nightmare Dorks

by miraeyeteeth, Nightpounce



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, NDU, Nightmare Dork University - Fandom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: #false imprisonment warning I guess?, #golden age, #proto being creepy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraeyeteeth/pseuds/miraeyeteeth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightpounce/pseuds/Nightpounce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Golden Age Nightmare Dork University AU. Proto, Piki, and Pitch get in a spot of trouble, Jack once again proves himself to be the saddest sack in the galaxy, and Pitchiner is stuck trying to fix the whole mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gilded Nightmare Dorks

**Author's Note:**

> So, Nightmare Dorks University is an au based around the Wangst Comics drawn by ask-pitchs-wardrobe on Tumblr (http://ask-pitchs-wardrobe.tumblr.com/) - you really should go check them out right now (SO GOOD!).
> 
> Mira-eyeteeth helpfully compiled a blog just for this au and the adorable arseholes that make it up (Kozmotis Pitchiner, Piki Black, Pitch Black, Proto and Jack Sickle). You can find the history for this AU here;  
> http://mira-eyeteeth.tumblr.com/NDU
> 
> This is a very loose AU, people tend to pick and choose what they want to be canon and what they don't. Be warned, this AU has a tendency to eat people (it's all mira's fault i got dragged in!!) and it's full of amazingly talented artists and writers. It also includes Proto's pet taxidermied ferret.....which he leaves in various places around the shared apartment, claiming Mr Pickles likes to watch. The others are less than impressed by this behaviour >>
> 
> ......................................
> 
> This is a golden!age AU

“Proto. You are aware of what we are, yes?” Pitch said flatly, staring at the object in front of him.

“Well, that raises several interesting philosophical questions-” Proto started, but was quickly cut off.

“I meant literally, you dolt! It has occurred to you that we are fearlings, beings of darkness, terrors of the night, despisers of all things light, has it not?!” Pitch snarled, claws lengthening in ire.

Proto blinked his gleaming blue eyes. “Well, yes. If you put it that way.”

“Then what is THAT?!” Pitch’s voice rose to a screech like nails on a chalkboard as he jabbed a claw in the direction of the glittering metallic cylinder that was propped up on a tripod. A chunk of crystal was set into place in the back end of it, shining with a harsh white glow that was a jarring contrast to the soft shadows that swathed the rest of the room. The light illuminated the ornate, intricate designs that had been worked into the metal, almost obscuring the trigger that was at the base of the object. It positively buzzed with energy that set Pitch’s teeth on edge and his spines bristling.

“I found it,” Proto said simply.

“That’s Golden Army technology! It’s deadly! Piki, talk some sense into him!”

“I’m busy keeping a look out, you idiot! Do you have any idea what will happen if they find us with that?” Piki hissed, not moving from the doorway as he peered out into the lightless corridor.

Proto cocked his head, still calm. “It seems rather wasteful to not learn as much as we can about it; I think I even managed to get it back into working order. It’s a fascinating mechanism, really.”

“You WHAT?!”

“Someone’s coming!” Piki interrupted, whirling around.

“Darkness!” Pitch swore and glanced around the tiny room desperately. “Don’t you have any hiding places?”

“This room was serving as one until you found it,” Proto replied. “You could try under the workbench-” he said, just as Pitch grabbed the gun and a Nightmare Man slunk into the doorway.

“What’s-” was the only word he managed to get out.

In his haste to shove the weapon out of sight, Pitch jostled the trigger and a searing ray of light shot from the gun, catching the Nightmare Man full in the chest. The unfortunate creature let out a hideous shriek as he was vaporized, leaving behind only a faint smudge and an unpleasant smell, like burned hair and ammonia.

Pitch stared down at the stain bleakly. “We are so dead.”

————————-

Jack Sickle huddled miserably in the maintenance closet, willing himself to vanish and wondering why he had ever enlisted in the Golden Army to begin with. He had wanted to defend the galaxy and the people in it, but that was a huge joke. He couldn’t even defend himself, how could he have ever thought that would change? He was completely useless; the only reason he’d even managed to make it out of boot camp was thanks to Koz- er, Lieutenant Pitchiner- who had taken pity on him for some unfathomable reason and decided to watch over his useless whelp-self whilst going through his own training.

They’d even been assigned to the same ship, Nebula Delta. It was the only reason why Jack hadn’t resigned; Lieutenant Pitchiner seemed to have faith in him and he didn’t want to disappoint him… But of course if he stayed, he would only be a disappointment anyway, eventually. Sooner rather than later, considering the absolute mess he’d made of the training arena.

He whimpered, curling in on himself further, knees tight against his chest and hands fisted in his hair. He was such an idiot, he couldn’t do anything right! How could he possibly avoid disappointing his friend when he couldn’t do the simplest thing….he’d never be able to master the weapons of the Golden Army when he couldn’t even control his own innate abilities. Speaking of… Jack groaned, watching as delicate patterns of frost spiralled away from his boots, creeping across the floor and winding slowly up the supports for the surrounding shelves. Great, just great, he couldn’t even mope without turning the area around him into an ice box! 

Jack’s self-denigrating train of thought was brought to an abrupt, crashing halt when inky blackness oozed under the crack of the door and formed itself into a trio of tall, dark, spindly creatures. Jack stared up in horror from his curled position against the far shelves, eyes ghosting over the collection of spines, claws and dripping darkness as the light in the closet dimmed.

Fearlings. There were fearlings on the ship. He sucked in air to scream an alarm just as two sets of amber and one pair of chilling blue eyes fixed on him. One of the fearlings lunged forward and clamped a clawed hand over Jack’s mouth before he could make a sound.

“Shhhh!” it hissed. “Do you want us to get caught?”

“He probably does, really.”

“Not helping, Proto!” It snapped, pressing its other hand to Jack’s throat, claws razor-sharp, when the soldier started to struggle. Jack froze.

“Sorry~” the blue-eyed fearling replied, turning away and stretching unnaturally to peer at the items that had been scattered on the shelves above Jack’s cringing form. It traced a talon along a slowly forming icicle and hummed, making a sound that sent a shiver creeping down Jack’s spine. Shifting its attention to a bottle of cleaning solvents, it picked it up and… was it reading the label on the bottle?

The third fearling slunk forwards, making Jack attempt (fruitlessly) to shrink further back against the wall he was pressed against. This one seemed to be partially covered in some kind of black, viscous goop that oozed down its unnatural form. Jack didn’t want to know what might happen if it touched him. The thing didn’t spare him much thought though, instead turning its attention on the one that was holding Jack captive.

“Oh, great idea, Pitch. ‘Let’s go hide in the middle of the GOLDEN ARMY, they won’t follow us there!’ Yes, because they know that their dirty work will be done for them! What kind of idiotic-”

“I didn’t see YOU coming up with any great ideas, Piki!” the thing snarled and withdrew the hand on Jack’s throat to jab a finger meaningfully into the other creature’s chest. (Jack would have been relieved by this if he hadn’t felt shadowy bonds snaking around his limbs, shackling him to the wall.)

The dripping fearling slapped the limb away, a faint sucking noise made as the claw was pulled out of the goo, and possibly the thing’s ribcage, if it had one. “If I had, I guarantee they would have been better than hiding in some dusty hole in the middle of a nest of people who will kill us on sight!”

“Well you didn’t, did you?!”

The fearling hissed at its counterpart, baring needle-sharp teeth. Then it heaved a sigh. “Well, we’re stuck here now. Might as well try to make the best of it. I vote we take a breather, have a quick snack, and work out a marginally less suicidal plan.”

Snack?! Jack thought with no small amount of panic.

“You’re not the boss of me,” the other one muttered petulantly, claws flexing against Jack’s cheeks, but its eyes, gleaming hungrily, shifted to fix on the shivering boy it held pinned against the wall. “But that does sound reasonable, for once.”

The viscous fearling scoffed, sulphurous eyes locking with panicked blue as it glided forward to crouch beside its fellow. “Such a pretty catch. How long has it been since we had a proper meal, Pitch?” Sharp talons were inspected carefully, the creature twisting its wrist just-so, hissing in pleasure as what little light remained glinted off the wicked points.

Jack shuddered, whining in panic as the monsters shared a feral grin before leaning closer.

“Oh…years, I’m sure. Long enough that I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.”

Thin shoulders hunched as Jack cringed, chest starting to heave as claws tip-toed their way up his thigh, drops of liquid shadow spattering his pants.

“That would be unfortunate…the last time you lost control it took me weeks to clean the lair….we never did find all the pieces, did we?”

The terrified soldier started to thrash against the shadows holding him, heedless of the claws on his face and the pleased hisses of his tormentors. Out! Out, he wanted out!! He needed to get away!

“Don’t worry Piki.” Jack grunted, wincing as the clawed hand on his face forced his head back against the wall before shifting to grip his chin. “I really am very hungry.” Hard pressure tipped his chin up, tears spilling down pale cheeks when hot breath washed over both sides of his now exposed throat.

Chilling blue eyes in an upside-down face hovered inches from his own as the third fearling, looming behind its smaller companions, twisted unnaturally and brandished a bottle. “Given that army life necessitates the development of industrial-strength cleaning products, we won’t have to worry about stains this time either~.”

The thing offered a serene smile, staring with interest at the rapidly spreading ice on the wall behind the panicked prisoner before reaching forward to catch a tear with the tip of one talon. Jack’s entire focus narrowed, zeroing in on the claw now approaching his eye.

Everything froze.

Literally.

Piki blinked down in surprise at the icicle currently impaling him, tapping his claws against it thoughtfully before twisting his head 180 degrees to stare over his shoulder, eyeing the shadow-stained ice protruding from between his shoulder blades before gazing with interest at the shimmering walls.

“Wonderful. Oh course he’s an ice mage,” Pitch snarled from where he had leapt backwards, shadows swirling around his frost covered form as he shook ice crystals from his spines.

“Given the rather… uncontrolled nature of his abilities, I’m not sure the term ‘mage’ applies.” Electric-blue eyes blinked down from a frosty corner of the roof at the white-haired boy currently struggling to break the frozen shadows holding him firmly in place against the wall.

“Even better, an untrained ice user! Any other bright ideas?” Pitch shook the last of the ice from his hair before glaring at his brother.

“Many. Sadly, I doubt you’d be able to appreciate the artistry in most of them.” Shooting his twin a haughty look, Piki shifted to the side, sliding free of the ice with a faint, wet sound. He paused to appreciate the effect of his shadows sliding down the ice, coating the surface in a slowly hardening shell before moving closer to its origin.

“He may be untrained, but he has talent.”

“What good does that do us?!” Pitch stalked forward, the angry movements catching his quarries’ attention as the ice around the boy’s chest cracked.

Wrenching desperately to the side, Jack sucked in a breath to scream for help when the ice holding him finally shattered.

“KO-“

Gentle claws, larger than before, closed over Jack’s mouth, covering his entire lower face and stifling his cry. Ignoring the thrashing and muffled, frustrated noises of his captive, Proto rose fully from the shadows, leaning back comfortably against the wall and tugging Jack into his lap.

“Hush, little one.” Multiple shadowy appendages tugged and pulled until a horrified Jack was carefully cradled against a large, lean chest, shadows slipping under his sleeves, curious claws tracing against his bare skin as others carded absently through his hair.

“His ice could be a useful weapon…” Piki gestured at the surrounding spikes.

“How? It’s not like he’ll help us willingly and I refuse to share his skin with either of you!”

Jack shuddered, whining in distress. Possession! They were going to possess him! No, no he didn’t want…he’d heard the stories. He had to get out and find Koz!

“Curious, his skin is warm. Or at least in the normal range for living mammals. I would have thought that ice magic of that magnitude would have dropped his temperature more than a handful of degrees,” the fearling holding him remarked.

“As fascinating as that is, I think we have more pressing concerns!” Pitch waved a clawed hand around the room.

“Also, it’s not his skin that we’d have to share,” Proto replied, ignoring his companion’s agitated gesture and adjusting the struggling boy in his lap. “I do have a method that should…sway his allegiance. He seems to know his way around the ship as well, he could be useful for more than just ice…”

Piki stepped up beside Proto, tapping his chin with a claw as he stared down at their captive. “Hmm, that’s true…”

Pitch groaned, sounding exasperated. “It’s not like we have a whole lot of other options at this point, is it?” He stepped up to stand opposite his twin.

“I’m so glad you agree,” the soft reply came, and Jack whimpered as the upside–down face of the fearling dipped into his field of vision, blue eyes glittering. “And how about you…Oh, we haven’t been introduced. Well, I’m sure you know all our names by now, won’t you grace us with yours?”

The claws over his face lifted away and Jack screamed. Or at least, he tried to. The shout seemed to get caught halfway out of his throat, a strangled little keen the only noise that escaped.

“Ah-ah. Inside voice~” the thing trilled, one of its many hands stroking gently down the column of Jack’s throat.

“Wh-What did you do to me?” Jack managed to whisper.

“Nothing permanent. I think. I haven’t actually used this particular enchantment before. But you’re still able to breathe, so I managed to work out that particular issue with this version.”

Jack paled, trying not to think about the previous experiments the creature must have run. “Let m-me go!”

The thing cocked its head, neck twisting even further. Jack cringed at the sickening cracking noises that accompanied the movement. “That’s an odd name…Oh you were making a demand. I’m afraid I can’t do that. Come now, can’t we all be friends here?”

“No!” Jack snapped, attempting to push himself away from its chest.

“Oh,” the thing said, and sighed. “Well, I didn’t want it to come to this…” A creeping hand slid up and over Jack’s shoulder, ghosting across the inside of his jacket, heedless of the way the young man squirmed. It withdrew holding a jingling set of oval, metal discs – Jack’s dog tags. “Ah, Jack Sickle, Second Private of the Nebula Delta taskforce. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jack gulped, scrambling for courage he wasn’t sure he had. “I w-won’t help you. I won’t.”

Proto shifted his gaze from the tags dangling in his claws back to Jack, blinking. “Why ever not? Wouldn’t it be easier if we all just worked together? And we would be ever so grateful…”

“N-no.” Jack’s voice barely wavered as he set his jaw stubbornly.

“Are you sure?” The claw in his hair slid to cup the back of his skull. “Wouldn’t it be nice not to be alone anymore?”

Pale blue eyes flicked away. “I w-won’t help.”

The hands holding him tightened, sharp points pricking through his clothing. “You’re really certain that you don’t want to be against working in collusion with us?” it asked, voice more of a hiss than a question.

“I’m sure,” Jack whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to brace himself for the sudden rending pain that was going to-.

“Wonderful! Then we can get started,” Proto said cheerily, and Jack could feel it shift, straightening up while the hands holding him relaxed once more.

“What?” Jack’s eyes snapped open. Belatedly, his brain worked out the meaning of the question the thing had asked him and his head shot back up, eyes locking desperately with smug electric-blue. “No! I m-mean no!”

“Ah, sorry, no take backs.” A claw tipped talon tapped gently against the tip of Jack’s nose. “Piki, Pitch? If you would?”

“Urgh fine, what do you need us to do?” The creature with the spines heaved a sigh, settling into a crouch on Jack’s left side.

“Need I remind you this mess is your fault?” The viscous fearling slid up to sit next to them on the right.

“He’s the one that stole the weapon!!” Jack flinched when talons latched around his shoulder, the enraged fearling using him for support as it lent forward.

“Yes, and you’re the one who fired it.” The dripping creature flicked its claws dismissively, droplets of goo flying. A broken sob caused both to look down, watching as Jack tried to rub his spattered cheek against his shoulder, hands still restrained by the wandering shadows.

“Oh dear, here. Allow me,” Piki caught the boy’s chin, turning his head and holding it firmly in place as he ran the back of his talons across the shadow stained cheek. “There, all better, yes?” It paused, glowing amber eyes sweeping over Jack’s terrified face, before leaning back with a satisfied hiss and running its claw through Jack’s hair. “He really is a pretty catch, very unusual colouring…the perfect counterpoint to our own.” The boy in question tried to ignore the shadows dripping down his neck.

“Indeed~” The wandering shadows withdrew, trickling from Jack’s sleeves and winding around his limbs and torso. “A possible side effect of his magic. I’ve not had the pleasure of studying ice magic closely before but it promises to be fascinating.”

Reaching forward, the blue-eyed fearling lifted the boy from his lap, holding him carefully while he shifted the boy around to face him and ignoring the whispered pleas. The extra arms that the thing had produced stretched out like taffy to accommodate holding the soldier still in his new orientation. Proto sighed and reached out two more hands to cup both of the other fearlings’ faces. “I’ve always found your run-of-the-mill possession to be such a… distasteful thing. I mean, stamping down the host’s mind, a constant struggle, and having to be stuck in a single body? Really? Where’s the fun in that?” The smile on Proto’s face widened. “My method is far more entertaining.”

“Proto, if this is going to be one of your weird-” The spiky fearling started to say, but was cut off.

“Don’t fret, Pitch. This will be advantageous for all of us. Even our little friend here.”

Careful claws slipped through a handful of Jack’s snowy locks, and the soldier jerked his head away, trying to yell for help again. He couldn’t manage to make a sound louder than a whisper, and slumped against the limbs holding him, dread and misery and terror surging through him in waves. Why had he hidden in the furthest reaches of the ship? Why couldn’t he have holed up in a place where people would have noticed the chill spilling out into the hallway?

The largest fearling tsked. “He doesn’t believe that, poor dear. Ah, well. He’ll have a rather large incentive to see things our way, later. And everyone’s given consent, so there’s nothing to delay us now.” It ignored the rapid shaking of the boy’s head.

“Then let’s get on with it,” Piki muttered.

“Right. Hold one of his hands, would you?”

Jack whimpered as claw-tipped fingers closed over his hands and the largest fearling, -Proto?- started to speak in a cascading, lyrical tone, the words completely indecipherable, yet seeming to echo in his mind. Searching desperately for a way to stop what was happening, his eyes widened and fixed on his own shadow, cast in front of him by the light filtering through the crack under the door. It was shifting, moving of its own accord, the actions jerky and disjointed. The shadow shuddered and turned its head rapidly from side to side as if it to were panicked and searching the area, before shrinking in on itself as three tendrils of even darker blackness stretched out from the fearlings towards it. The blackness paused, Jack’s own shadow cringing further before the tendrils shot out and coiled around it, bleeding through it a darkness so absolute it was as if a hole to the black of space had been opened in the floor. Jack felt a tug from somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere that seemed to be on the inside of both his ribcage and his skull all at once. He gasped involuntarily, hands twitching in an abortive attempt to reach his chest, head dropping forward and suddenly there was a finger on his chin, tilting his head back up and forcing him to stare into inhumanly piercing blue eyes.

Jack was caught by those eyes, locked in place like a mouse in front of a cobra. He didn’t see his shadow being entirely consumed, he didn’t see the threads of void, hanging like dark spider webs, that bound the three monsters to himself, he didn’t see the way the other two creatures leant forwards, focused on him intently. But he felt it, somehow. He felt it in the buzzing behind his eyes, the pressure in his ribcage, the twitching, filtering sensations that his brain had no way of making sense of, no reference to compare to. The slowly trickling flow of information expanded to a raging torrent of madness, dragging at Jack’s very bones and narrowing his entire world to roiling turmoil and those sharp blue eyes. And then even those vanished - just closed, a drowned out part of him said - leaving Jack alone with the sensations for an incomprehensible instant before he felt the blessedly understandable tap of a forehead against his own, and blackness exploded through his brain, strangling the turmoil.

Finally Jack could scream.

————————————

Kozmotis (Koz, dammit. At least in the military people stuck mostly to his less ridiculous last name.) Pitchiner sighed as he wandered about the ship, wondering where his frosty friend had holed up this time. It was just another part of the routine now, wake up, go about his duties, play hide and go seek with his tiny pal after something set off an accidental cold snap. Jack always had such an overreaction to inadvertently freezing over the training area, or his bunk, or the cafeteria, or anywhere else, really. And yeah, it was kind of inconvenient to have ice suddenly coating everything, but the guys were getting really good at skating by this point and the slip-related injury rate was way down from last month. Really, if you wanted to look for silver linings, he and his crew mates would soon be the most environmentally adaptable soldiers in the army, specialising in surviving in and navigating wintery landscapes - an asset considering how many different planets they visited. And the ice always melted after a little while. They’d even stashed space heaters around the place to speed up the process. Everything was fine, but Pitchiner had to play “hunt the Jack-sickle” every time. Poor kid, he really needed to develop a thicker skin….or ice armor…that would be cool (HAH! oh man he’d have to remember to tell Jack that one). Could Jack even do that? Maybe he could suggest it.

Pitchiner’s head snapped up when he heard the scream, Jack’s scream, high-pitched and terrified, echo from down a disused corridor. “Jack?!” he shouted, sprinting down the hallway and coming to a screeching halt in front of the one door that had ice creeping over its frame, icicles hanging from the handle and it’s hinges already completely frozen over. Knocking the icicles free, he wrenched the door open to see his friend alone in the closet, clinging onto a large, jagged icicle protruding from the ground and struggling to get to his feet. The kid’s eyes were wide and blank, his entire body trembling, and he was gasping for air like someone who had almost drowned. “Jack? Are you okay?” Pitchiner asked, hurrying forwards in spite of the ice crusting everything and forming hazardous spikes throughout the closet interior (see? Skating practice! It DID pay off).

Jack raised his head to stare up at Pitchiner, eyes unfocused and tear tracks frozen along his cheeks. “Help,” he whimpered, before losing his tenuous grip on the icicle and collapsing in a heap.

Pitchiner rushed to scoop Jack up, spinning and dashing for the infirmary, never noticing the semi-circular, defensive pattern of the icicles or the dark, smeared shadows that had frozen over one section of the largest one Jack had been clinging to.

——————————-

Pitchiner lounged in a chair next to Jack’s bedside, arms crossed over his chest and head tipped back to rest against the wall as he worried at his lower lip with his teeth. The infirmary staff had been no help at all, saying they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with Jack, aside from exhaustion and some kind of shock. They’d suggested that perhaps Jack had lost control of his abilities, which might explain the massive ice spikes Koz had reported, magic that hadn’t ever been seen before from the kid, and why he’d fallen unconscious. The jerks also implied that Jack might be too much of a liability to be kept on the ship, if he was capable of such destructive and uncontrolled magic, no-one had been hurt this time but what if this happened in the cafeteria? Well, Pitchiner wasn’t about to let that happen, the snowflake had come too far to be turfed out now, not when he was making so much progress, and he told the useless clods just where they could shove their stethoscopes (they might have a hard time fitting it up there given that their heads were already sharing that space, so he’d suggested they refer to their anatomy charts for substitute orifices) before picking up Jack and storming off, determined to get to the bottom of the issue.

But first he really needed Jack to wake up. He would wake up, right? He hoped he would…because his one-sided musings and conversations really weren’t providing him the answers he needed. He shifted, resting his forearms on his thighs and leaning forward, still watching Jack closely and trying to ignore the way the skin on the back of his neck was prickling. He couldn’t really be feeling eyes watching him because they were currently alone in his quarters, which were larger and more private than the barracks Jack shared with the other lower ranking soldiers.

Jack, as if in response to the attention, let out a fearful whine and shifted in his sleep, shivering. Koz watched as the kid grimaced, head rolling from side to side against the pillow, hands working their way free of the covers to clutch at the material over his chest. Straightening, he tried to catch the half-formed words starting to spill from Jack’s mouth, concern trickling through him when he noticed the boy’s breath start to shorten, chest visibly heaving before he flinched and thrashed against the covers. When Pitchiner jumped to his feet, hovering worriedly over the bed, Jack started awake, eyes snapping open, wide and unseeing, as he choked on a scream.

Pitchiner reached out, a large hand catching one of Jack’s shoulders gently and squeezing, helping to ground him as pale blue eyes darted around the room, finally settling on the face hovering above him. Having caught the kid’s attention, Pitchiner offered a reassuring smile, shifting to rest his weight on his other hand, currently set on the bed beside Jack. “Whoa, there, kid. It’s alright. You’re okay. Just breathe. It was just a nightmare.”

Jack gulped in a shuddering breath and clutched the sheets tighter, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “N-n-no, it w-wasn’t… Th-th-they, they f-found me and I c-c-couldn’t…” he stammered, shivering.

“They? Who’s they, Jack?”

“Ah, I believe Jack is referring to us…” a soft voice cut in, Pitchiner tensing as he shifted instinctively to shield the smaller man. Snapping his gaze up from Jack, Pitchiner gaped at the ominous shadowy creature that was suddenly looming over the both of them, Jack whimpering as he curled up tighter beneath the sheets.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Pitchiner yelped, jerking backwards and scrambling to draw his sword. How had a fearling managed to get into the heart of the ship? What had it done to Jack? Was this thing the reason for the giant icicles? Pitchiner yanked the blade from it’s sheath, star silver gleaming with light, driving back the shadow of the creature.

“Ah, you really are going to want to hold on for just a moment, it’s unsafe to be swinging a sword like that around,” the thing said mildly, blinking down at him with eerie blue eyes.

“That’s the point!” Pitchiner snapped. “And who is us?”

“Dammit Proto, I thought we were supposed to keep a low profile…” A grumbled hiss behind him drew his attention to another pair of fearlings peering out from the shadows on the opposite wall, before he snapped his eyes back to the largest one - the one closest to Jack - and stepped forward, sword hefted and ready to swing.

The monster cocked its head. “You seemed to be rather concerned for Jack’s safety a moment ago, why would you jeopardize that?”

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Pitchiner snarled.

“Oh, no, you misunderstand. I’m not the one threatening him. You are,” the thing replied, spreading its claws innocently.

“I’d never hurt Jack!”

The fearling’s face split into a wide grin. “That’s what I thought. Do you want to know what happened when we found Jack? We… well, it would be easier to show you.” The creature reached out, slowly, and ran a claw along the edge of the shining metal blade that Pitchiner was brandishing. Its flesh hissed on contact, and faint black smoke rose from the mark that was left behind. At the same time, Jack and the other two monsters made varying sounds of discomfort and clutched at their own left hands; a slice had appeared on Jack’s finger, vivid red blood dripping down his skin. “There, you see. It’s a physio-sympathetic scenario. Simple enough concept. Damage to one of the bonded will be shared among the others. It’s actually a much worse deal for us, really; humans are much more susceptible to harm that fearlings, in my experience.”

Pitchiner’s eyes widened. Jack, somehow shackled to three members of one of the most dangerous species in the universe? The same species the army they were currently enlisted in had been tasked with hunting down and defeating?! “No… Break the bond! Now!” he barked out, tightening his grip on the sword.

The thing quirked an eyebrow. “So you can kill us with impunity? I think I’ll pass. Besides, I haven’t actually made the spell that would be able to separate us, yet.” The fearling shrugged. “But anyway, now you can clearly see that if you want to keep dear Jack safe, you’ll have to do the same for us. I’m called Proto, and those two are Pitch and Piki Black.”

“What are you plotting?” Pitchiner demanded.

The thing blinked. “Do you people have some kind of taboo against introducing yourselves? Is there perhaps some history of people attacking under the guise of an introduction? And as for the insidious plans, nothing, really. We’re just renegades. Cast out from the rest of the coven, and none too gently. And what better place to hide from the others then here?” It gestured grandly around the room. “And just think of what an educational experience it will be for everyone involved,” it added, grin stretching even wider over the creature’s face.


End file.
